


Left Behind

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 13 Inspired [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Coda, Crying, Emotions, Feels, Let the Good Times Roll, Loss, M/M, Phone Tree, Possessed Dean, Post 13x23, Text Messages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Now that Michael's disappeared with Dean and his body... what will the others do? How will they react - knowing their beloved friend has been taken from them?Here's how.





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> That. finale. Wow.
> 
> There was some good. There was some bad (looking at you flight rig and Thriller ending).
> 
> But I can't wait for the next three episodes to see how Dean gets out of this one. Until then, here's this tear-jerker.
> 
> Enjoy!

            Jody finds out from Sam. She’s at the stove, stirring a pot of beef stew from a recipe she saw on television. In the other room, Donna captures the girls’ attention with a daring tale from their latest hunt. Ever since she had transferred over to Sioux Falls, Jody and her have been moonlighting more often as a hunting duo. Patience and Alex listen intently, books wayward from their laps. Claire pretends to focus on the television, but her snarky comments betrayed her indifference.

            “Dinner’s almost ready, gang!” Jody calls, turning the flame from high to simmer, “Donna you can finish it in here, let’s go!” There’re grumbles, but the shuffling footsteps bring a smile to her face.

            She only notices her phone when she reaches for a bowl. Its notification light flashes, and she raises a brow at it. With most of the people she talks to in the dining room, there’re only one or two other people who can be calling.

            “Wonder if they found the devil…” she mutters, opening the phone up and reading the text.

            _CRACK!_

“Jody!”

            She looks up, Claire leading the pack, pausing at the entryway. Her phone lies forgotten on the floor, a small spider web working its way up the corner of the screen.

            “De – Dean…” she mutters, leaning against the counter.

            “What happened?” Claire asks, “Jody – is Dean _okay_?”

            Jody looks at them – at all of them, and can’t stop the tears brimming to the surface. “He’s been possessed… and he’s… he’s _gone_.”

            Donna gasps. Patience and Alex whimper, hands finding one another. Claire, however, has a different reaction. She grits her teeth, steels her gaze, and steps towards Jody until she’s pulling the mother figure into a tight hug.

            “He’s not gone,” she says, whispering harsh and wet, “We’ll find him. That’s what family is for.” Jody clings to Claire, re-centering herself with the help of the younger hunter. The others follow, surrounding their matriarch.

            ‘ _Beef stew’s better for lunch anyway…_ ’ Jody thinks, food forgotten for the night. 

* * *

 

            Rowena also finds out from Sam. Her and Charlie are on the side of the road, staring at a smoking yellow beetle. The younger redhead is under the hood, while the witchier of the two waits under a black umbrella.

            “Honestly, dear, _why_ did you insist on taking this _horrid_ vehicle?” she asks, pulling her sunglasses from her face.

            “Because, Rowena,” Charlie starts, glaring at her while elbow-deep in engine guts, “It’s got soul. Reminded me of the car I had _before_ angels screwed up my world.” It sputters once more, hacking grease and oil up on Charlie’s shirt. “Dammit!” she curses, “I just bought this shirt too!”

            “I told you to change,” Rowena calls out, “Although I won’t be shedding a tear over the ridiculous shirt you bought.”

            “Carrie Fischer is a treasure!” Charlie yells, “May she ret in peace!”

            Rowena wants to fire off another round of sass, but Annie Lennox’s ‘I’ve Put a Spell on You’ cuts her off. “Already?” she asks, pulling out the offending device from her purse, “We only _just_ bloody left. What could they possibly…”

            Charlie tries to focus on fixing her bug’s engine. But the longer Rowena keeps silent, the more worried she gets. Finally fed up with trying (and failing) to put together the machine, she looks back over to Rowena.

            A shaking, crying Rowena.

            “Hey… hey!” Charlie rushes over, “What happened?”

            She reaches out to touch her, only for the witch to pull back, “Don’t touch me with those grease-covered mitts, _nerd_.”

            Charlie rolls her eyes, “Who was it? What did they say?”

            “It was Samuel,” she starts, fiddling with her phone, “He said… Lucifer – he’s… he’s gone…”

            “That’s good right?”

            “Oh it is, dearie, but…” she hiccups, “Dean…”

            Charlie’s heart drops to her stomach. Even only knowing that something happened to the elder Winchester sends a chill up her spine. He was so sweet – albeit a little overprotective. Looked at her like the Charlie from his world. And even though they had just met, wishes that he’d share that look with her more often – but only because of the bond _they_ built together.

            “What happened?” she whispers.

            “Michael,” Rowena admits, “He’s possessed by the Michael from _your world_.” Charlie gasps, biting down on her lip until water wells up at the corner of her eyes.

            When she reaches out to hug Rowena, the latter doesn’t care for how mussed she’ll look later. She hugs the other girl back, rocking back and forth until a kind stranger helps them towards the nearest gas station. 

* * *

 

            Ketch finds out from Rowena. He’s relaxing in a booth at a roadside diner, a cup of stale coffee cooling nearby. In his hands, a wrinkled newspaper with marks over different sections and articles.

            A young waitress sidles over to him, her brunette hair pinned back into a messy bun. There are a few stains on her mustard-and-ketchup uniform, and the once shiny nametag that says ‘Sara’ has seen better days. “Are you ready to order, sir?” she asks him.

            He folds the newspaper over and meets her bored stare. “I’ll have some eggs, bacon and toast, love. Scarmbled. Burnt. And butter. Thank you.” Sara rolls her eyes, but moves on to put the order in.

            “Let’s see…” he mutters, flipping to the next page, “This might be interesting.” He pulls his phone out now, placing the older medium off to the wayside. Typing in a few key words, he pulls up another article that checks off a few more tabs.

            “Thought we wiped all you bloodsuckers out ages ago,” he hums, “But here we are.”

            He’s about to close out when a notification flashes above. Ketch sees Rowena’s name and frowns. After having her insert the resurrection spell back into his leg, they parted ways with the hope of never seeing the other again.

            But she’s messaging him, telling him that Dean…

            “Bloody hell.”

            Ketch bolts from his booth, storming out the door. Sara calls after him, “Sir… _sir!_ Your food and –“ the bell clangs –“my tip… British… I thought they had manners.”

            The former Men of Letters rushes over to his bike, his vision blurring with rage. He stops at the handlebars, leaning against them, shuddering for breath. He’s staring into a tunnel, and his gut twists itself into knots he hasn’t seen since his Academy days.

            “You stupid… block-headed… _American!_ ” He kicks the wheel, sending his bike to the ground. Ketch curls up next to it, taking a few seconds to control his temper.

            Soon enough, he’s picking the bike up and peeling out of the near-empty parking lot.

            On his mind: the route back to Lebanon.

* * *

             Billie walks the halls of her library. She plucks a book out from its place and opens it to a certain page.

            “Damn,” she whispers, “Out of all the paths… why’d he have to follow this one?”

            She carries it back to her desk, Jessica watching with fear.

            None of the reapers, including Billie, are sure what will happen next. 

* * *

 

            Naomi watches Heaven blare in and out. Flagstaff flies in with the other angels quickly on her heels.

            “Naomi?” she asks, “What is happening?”

            “Lucifer,” Naomi tells them, “He’s dead.”

            “Dead? But…” the angels look between them, “What does that mean of Heaven?”

            “We still may have hope… there’s one other archangel left on Earth.”

            “Gabriel?”

            “No… _Michael_.” 

* * *

 

            Mary finds out from Cas.

            She and Bobby re-emerge from the Bunker’s innards, surprised by the eerie silence within their home’s halls. They’re on high alert, with Mary steeling herself for whatever she might find. Even if that means her boys’…

            ‘ _No_ ,’ she thinks, ‘ _We’re not going there_.’

            What they do find in the main room, however, is not what they expected. Michael’s vessel lies unmoving near the map of the world. On the steps, Cas sits frozen – like a statue, curled in on itself.

            “Cas?” Mary asks, stepping forward, “Castiel? What happened? Where’s…”

            He doesn’t respond.

            “Castiel?” she urges, kneeling right behind him, “Sam and Dean… I need to know.”

            “He’s… he’s gone,” Cas says, eyes distant – _searching_.

            “Who’s gone?” Mary pleads now, hand on his shoulder, “Castiel, please –“

            “C’mon now, boy,” Bobby interrupts, “Answer her!”

            “Dean he… he said…” he chokes back a sob, “He said _yes_.”

            Sam and Jack find Mary curled against Bobby, weeping openly against his chest. The two shuffle their way in, nearing them. Sam quickly joins the two hunters, where Mary latches onto him, squeezing him tight. “Why?” she asks, “Why did he – why _would_ he?”

            “To save us,” Sam tells her, swaying with her, “To save us _all_.”

            Jack sits next to Cas, the angel unmoved by their entrance. “Father?” Jack asks, “Father, are you okay?”

            He says nothing, but twin wet trails tell Jack all he needs to know. The nephilim leans his head against Cas’s shoulder, humming. “We’ll find him,” he says, “And when we do, we’ll rescue Dean.”

            Mary’s wretched cries and Sam’s feeble words are all that break the deathly silence suffocating the Bunker. 

* * *

 

            Cas finds out because of Dean. His final act, a last-minute prayer sent to him before Michael took over. In it, he tells Cas two things: “Take care of them” and “I… I… I lo –“

            The message cuts out before he could finish, the bond between them cut – Cas recoiling from the intensity. He shudders, slowly craning his eyes toward the ceiling.

            And cries.

**Author's Note:**

> So ya like? Let me know! Drop a kudos or comment below!


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